


Broken Heart Patrol

by sinemoras09



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Gen Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: Mr. Nobody wants a new narrative. Dorothy shapes one for him. Gen. Crack. Spoilers for seasons 1-2.
Relationships: Eric Morden & Dorothy Spinner
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	Broken Heart Patrol

Once again, our team of consummate fuck-ups have assembled. Behold! They know not what to do with the giant flaming arrows pointing their direction! And our darling Rita tries to stretch herself in vain, hoping the flesh of her body will act as a rubber shield--

"Oh for gods' sakes," Rita says. She drops her arms. "It's Nobody."

"What?" Vic says.

"You can come out, little man," Rita says. She puts her hands on her hips. "I refuse to listen to this terrible narration, so you may as well show yourself. I don't particularly enjoy the sound of your voice in my head."

Everything stops. The fire, the smoke, the car that had exploded, suspended in mid-air. The Doom Patrol AKA team of consummate fuck-ups stand in anticipation, waiting for their handsome narrator to make his appearance. "Ta da," Nobody says. He spreads his arms. "You wanted to see me? I'm delighted."

"What happened, why'd everything stop?" Larry says. It's like they're standing in a still painting and everything about that is disconcerting.

"Just a little space-time mumbo jumbo, nothing to concern your pretty head with," Nobody says. "This storyline isn't interesting, so I've taken it upon myself to remove us from it."

"'Remove' us?" Larry stares at him. "Wait, you can't remove us, the city is under attack, and--"

Nobody snaps his fingers.

*****

"What the fuck - I thought you got a side gig," Cliff says.

They're back at the manor, looking around, confused at the sudden shift in location. Meanwhile, Nobody is sitting on the table, drinking a strawberry daiquiri with a large heart-shaped straw and a purple paper umbrella. He lifts his drink with a flourish. "I got bored," he says. He hops off the table, setting down his drink. "As you can see, I transcend all dimensions. Third dimension, fourth dimension. Online, offline. Television. And even the lowliest of the low, fanfiction--"

"Fan...fiction?" Larry says.

"But alas!" Nobody says, and he lifts his arms with a flourish. "I grew so terribly bored! No one has spun a yarn that is as enticing, that is as elegant and tragic, as one that I can tell myself. So," Nobody says, turning. "I decided, enough was enough. I was going to come up with a story myself."

"And this story...what's it about?" Larry says. Nobody frowns.

"I haven't figured it out yet."

"Ah."

Rita rolls her eyes magnificently. "And what are we supposed to do while you 'figure it out'?" Rita says.

"Why, anything you want!" Nobody says. "Whatever your heart desires. Just say the word, and I will make your deepest, darkest dreams come true."

"You guys aren't seriously gonna listen to him, right?" Jane says. "This fucker should be trapped in a fucking painting. Not dangling so-called 'fantasies' for all you piss-for-brains dipshits."

"Ah, Jane," Nobody says. He claps his hands to his chest. "How marvelous."

"Nobody fucking asked you."

"I do love the sound of my own name," Nobody says.

"Ugh."

"So you're not planning revenge?" Larry says. "You're not planning to torture us into a painful oblivion?"

"Of course not," Nobody says. "That's already been well-established in canon. If I were to do that again, it would be a poorly written re-tread."

They stand around, glancing at each other.

"Well," Rita says, walking forward, "if you ask me, there hasn't been enough in the storyline about you," Rita says. She gestures to Nobody pointedly. "All we've gotten is the broad brushstrokes, as they say. Perhaps you should consider focusing the narration on yourself."

"And why would I do that?" Nobody says.

"Well, for your viewers," Rita says. "Clearly, you are...omnipotent, all-powerful, mysterious, with a tragic backstory yourself. The pain of an unrequited love," Rita says. "It would make a fabulous story."

"I see. And I suppose, following your line of logic, that our gentle readers would want to see yours truly, their magnificent narrator, wallowing in his own filth and self-pity, choking on the angst and existential dread of his condition?"

"Well of course," Rita says. Nobody's eyes narrow.

"Rita, Rita, Rita," Nobody says. He wags a finger. "You are trying to distract me from narrating your story."

"Oh, heavens no. I just thought the focus should shift to you," Rita says. "After all, you are a mysterious character."

"And so our heroine hoped the vainglorious beast would take the bait, but alas. He was too cunning for that."

"Well how about a romance, then," Rita says. "Our poor Larry is long overdue for some romance--"

"I'm going to stop you right there, no thank you," Larry says.

"Ah, I see," Nobody strokes his chin. "A romance for our wayward lover. Bereft of his one true love. Ah, yes, I can taste it. The loneliness which cuts like teeth! And there, a flashback! Where the love interest, John, kisses him quickly before his eyes can fill with self-hatred. Oh ho ho, yes - but no! - But YES! Except that too would be a re-tread," Nobody says, frowning. He considers. "Perhaps a quick little ditty about Larry and masturbation?"

"No," Larry says. Nobody bristles.

"Well I for one just wondered how it works," Nobody says. "Clearly the viewers all saw you orgasm--"

"Oh for chrissakes," Larry says.

"--which begs the question: did you spend the rest of that episode with...you know. Cum, in your pants? I don't mean to be crude," Nobody says, raising his hands, "but it is something I've always wondered."

"Oh shit!" Cliff says. "Larry was walking around with jizz in his pants!"

"Indeed," Nobody says.

"Wha - I was not--"

"Then how did you come? Was it through anal stimulation, then?" Nobody says.

"None of your business!" Larry says.

"Ha ha! He had _jizz_ in his pants! Now who's making fun of me for not being able to orgasm?"

"Alright, I'm out of here," Larry says. He walks angrily out into the hall.

Nobody clasps his hands. "Anybody else?" Nobody says. Jane raises her hand.

"Yeah, how about you shut the fuck up and we go to our rooms?" Jane says.

"Hm, a story about the Underground, so poignant, so deep. But frankly I'm not in the mood right now," Nobody says.

"Ooh! Oooh! How about a story with me and Clara?" Cliff says.

"Eh," Nobody says.

"Oooh! Oooh! What about a story about Stone and Steele?"

"I'm not feeling it," Nobody says.

"I wanna hear more about Larry and masturbation," Flit says.

"Oh hey, Flit!" Cliff says. He and Flit fistbump.

There is a sound, a door slowly opening as Dorothy shyly pokes her head in.

"Well hello," Nobody says. He kneels to her level. "And who is this tasty little biscuit?"

"My name is Dorothy, sir," Dorothy says. Rita quickly walks over.

"No, no, no, you do not get to interact with her, she is just an innocent child--"

"An innocent child who I'm told at the time of this writing, is on the verge of bringing about the apocalypse," Nobody says. He smiles at Dorothy, his eyes never leaving hers. "Fortunately, this timeline is removed from the canon time continuity. How old are you, little girl?"

"One hundred and three-quarters."

"Just one hundred? You truly are a little lady."

"I'm not little," Dorothy says. "I'm a grown-up, too."

"Well what do you say we take a stroll? Just one grown-up young lady and Season 1's number one bad guy? Hmm?"

"That would be lovely," Dorothy says, and she takes his arm.

The others start, "Wait wait wait--"

"Dorothy, darling, you mustn't--"

"He's fucking fucked up in the head!"

"Oh shit," Vic says, as Dorothy and Nobody wink out into oblivion.

*****

And there you have it, dear readers! The plot twist of the century! Our intrepid narrator has absconded with the apple of Niles Caulder's eye. "Are you going to hurt me?" Dorothy says. Nobody kneels in front of her.

"Never you fret your furry little head," Nobody says. "Even I would not deign to hurt a child for the sake of story."

"Oh, if you're a narrator, is there any way we can see Danny?" Dorothy says. "I ever do miss them."

"Ah, Danny," Nobody says. "They are a fan favorite."

Nobody snaps his fingers.

*****

DOROTHY! The words come out from the tail pipe of an ambulance, the Dannyzens waving out the windows. DOROTHY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? MR. NOBODY IS DANGEROUS!

"Mr. Nobody is letting me see you," Dorothy says. She squats by the ambulance. "Are you an ambulance now, Danny?"

The sirens flash in the affirmative.

"How wonderful!" Dorothy says. She stands up and looks at Nobody, beaming. "Danny was my best friend. For a long time, they were my only friend. Even though they were also my warden. But at least Danny was honest with me about it."

IT KILLED ME TO SEE YOU LIKE THAT, DOROTHY.

"I know, Danny, I know you tried your best." Dorothy pets the side of the ambulance fondly.

Nobody squats at the side of the curb. For once, he isn't compelled to give his normal detailed narrations. The child strokes the smooth white panel of the ambulance with gentle care, the way a girl would stroke a horse's nose before giving it an apple. How sad a life she must lived, for this simple, sentient object to be her only friend.

I'M NOT SIMPLE.

"Oh shut up, I wasn't narrating for you," Nobody says. Dorothy turns.

"Do you have any friends you want to visit?" Dorothy says.

"Friends? Oh no, my dear girl. Friends are for the weak, and I am not weak."

"That sounds lonely," Dorothy says.

Wait a minute! This ape-faced child is hijacking the story! This is not supposed to be about sad sap Eric Morden! No, this is supposed to be about the victorious Mr. Nobody! About he who took pity on this wayward girl and granted her her only wish, to see her one true friend--

HE DOES SEEM LONELY, DOESN'T HE?

"Silence, miscreant! I am busy narrating!"

HIS ONLY FRIENDS WERE AN EVANGELICAL COCKROACH AND A VENGEFUL ORPHANED MOUSE.

"How sad," Dorothy says. Nobody rears up.

"No! It is not sad! It was done for the sake of comedy!" Nobody says.

THERE WAS A FLASHBACK ABOUT HOW HE WAS DUMPED BY HIS GIRLFRIEND MILLIE.

"Mm mm. That does sound sad," one of the Dannyzens says. Nobody drops his hands.

"I am not lonely, my dear child. I am too full of vengeance and _je nais se quoi_ to care about such trivial matters."

SHE LEFT HIM IN A RESTAURANT TO CRY.

"Danny, you truly are a little shit, aren't you?" Nobody says.

"Oh dear," Dorothy says.

Nobody snaps his fingers.

*****

Dorothy and Nobody stand in a completely white space. Dorothy looks around, awestruck. "Are we in the White Space?"

"We are indeed." Nobody walks over. "And just so you understand, dear girl, I am not lonely. Merely omnipotent and terribly, horribly bored."

"Because you have no one to share your life with," Dorothy says.

"Ha! No. No, no, you poor dumb child, no. I don't need anybody. I don't need friends. I am, for all intents and purposes, as well as marketing and branding, the closet thing to this universe's god. A veritable Dr. Manhattan! Except not naked and actually able to influence time and space."

"Who is Dr. Manhattan?" Dorothy says.

"A big blue monster god with a big blue monster shlong."

"Oh," Dorothy says. "Do you think perhaps he's met my father?"

"I don't know, dear girl, he is in a whole separate-but-inferior universe." Nobody considers. "The HBO miniseries about him though is phenomenal. It's a sequel, you know."

"I don't think I understand," Dorothy says. Nobody squats on the ground next to her.

"Nobody does," Nobody says. "Ha! Listen to that! I've made a pun."

"Did your girlfriend really leave you?" Dorothy says, sitting next to him. Nobody gestures.

"She didn't leave me, she left Eric Morden. And that poor sap had nothing left after her. Spent his nights crying into his pillow, oh woe is me, nobody loves me! Pathetic. But I am not Eric Morden," Nobody says. "I am Mr. Nobody. Omnipotent, handsome, all-seeing narrator god! If I wanted to, I could conjure up a host of beautiful women to answer to my beck and call, but to use my powers for such banal and base urges would be beneath me."

"Why?" Dorothy says. Nobody furrows his brow.

"Why? What do you mean, why?"

"Because they wouldn't really love you?"

Nobody scoffs. "Why- wha- what, what do you-" he shakes his head, then wags his finger at her, "Oh ho ho, Dorothy. You are mistaking me for that sad sap Larry!"

"It's okay to feel sad," Dorothy says. "I know what it's like to feel lonely. To have no one to talk to or hug you."

"Ugh. Clearly I picked the wrong character to shape my narration."

"Is that why you kidnapped father? To have someone to talk to?"

"To have someone to torture, my dear, and I do not like the contours of this story."

"But--"

But children are naive to the hearts and minds of adult men, and Dorothy finds she is out of her depth! What does she know about Mr. Nobody's heart? It does not beat, it doesn't exist! And so, with a snap of his fingers, he returns her to her home, amid the freaks and idiots Niles Caulder assembled beneath his tutelage.

Nobody steps back, then disappears into the white. Stupid, insolent girl! What does she know about the fragile hearts of men? Or the aching loneliness of an empty bed? How dare she bring back those painful memories, the sadness of knowing no one will love you, that for all your powers, you are forever alone?

Beard Hunter walks into the frame, naked except for a pair of Beast Boy briefs and eating a bag of cheetos. "Want some?" Beard Hunter says. He shakes the bag. Nobody waves his hand.

"No," Nobody says. "Cheesy puff snacks are not the cure to a broken heart."

"Wait, are you crying?"

"No." Nobody sniffs magnificently. "I am not 'crying.' Merely reflecting. Pondering. Trying to redirect this worthless narration." Nobody lifts his eyes. "A moment," Nobody says, rising. "You too, share my condition. Of being unmoored, of having no attachments. No loving tethers to anchor us to the rest of humanity! Ha ha! 2D characters are not enough to satisfy the longings of the heart! Only flesh and blood and real, human arms, can take you into their warm embrace! No anime screens or RPGs is enough for loneliness to be assuaged! You too, lack belonging," Nobody says. "You too have no one to call your own."

Beard Hunter pops a cheeto in his mouth. "Speak for yourself. I still have my mom."


End file.
